


Prime Time

by SaucyWench



Series: Cups and Roses [11]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: D/s tones, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Plot? What Plot?, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/pseuds/SaucyWench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders is waiting for Mitchell.  Mitchell is running late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prime Time

Anders was supposed to be meeting Mitchell after work. He’d been sitting at the bar for almost an hour, though, and there was no sign of his wayward vampire. He flagged the bartender for a refill before checking his phone. Sometimes Mitchell got busy and forgot such things as text messages existed. There was nothing on his phone, so Anders set it down with a sigh. He’d give it another fifteen minutes before calling. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn’t too worried. If there was an emergency at the hospital, Mitchell didn’t always have time to text or call.

“Bad news?” the man sitting next to him at the bar leaned closer and asked.

“Well, they say no news is good news, right?” Anders gave him a rueful smile.

“Ouch. Did your date stand you up?”

“He was supposed to be here an hour ago, so I imagine so.” Anders didn’t miss the gleam of interest when he said he was supposed to be meeting a man.

The bartender arrived with his martini, and Anders started to pull out his wallet.

The man waved him off, saying, “Please, let me buy you a drink to drown your sorrows, then.”

Anders lifted the glass in a little salute and said, “Thank you….”

The man hastened to say, “Bret. I’m Bret.”

“Thank you, Bret.” Anders took a sip and licked his lips before adding, “I’m Anders.”

Bret licked his lips and blinked before smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, Anders. I think I’ve been stood up too. Want to shoot a game of pool to pass the time until we decide they aren’t showing up?”

Anders made a little pout and said, “I’m not very good.”

“I’d say that I’d show you how, but I’m not very good either. Maybe I can get lucky and impress you though.”

Looking over the rim of his glass, Anders said, “You don’t need pool to get lucky.”

Bret blushed and stammered something about setting up the table.

Anders almost felt bad. He wasn’t flirting with intent. He was only passing the time until Mitchell got here. This Bret guy seemed nice enough, and easy to please. Well, he could use Bragi to smooth out any ruffled feathers later. He gave Bret another smile and told him, “Let’s see how badly we do at pool.”

Bret won the first game, so Anders bought the next round of drinks. Anders won the next game, so Bret bought that round. While Bret was at the bar, Anders checked his phone again. This time a text from Mitchell was waiting, saying he’d be late. Anders snorted and erased it. That was old news.

Bret came back and saw him. “Still no word from your date?”

Anders smiled and shrugged, leaning a hip on the pool table as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, I’ll have to try harder to be distracting and see if I can get your mind off of him.” Bret stepped closer and handed Anders his drink.

“Here’s to a pleasant distraction.” Anders raised his drink before taking a swallow while letting his eyes roam down Bret’s body, then back up. He gave Bret a smile and licked his lips.  

Bret blushed again, but leaned closer as he reached around Anders for the chalk. Anders didn’t move, in fact he leaned closer into Bret. Bret got the chalk and leaned back a bit to start rubbing it over the end of a cue as he asked, “Another game?”

“Sure, rack it up. I’ll be right back.” Anders set his drink on a free table and headed for the bathroom.

He finished his business and crossed to the sink to wash his hands. Someone came into the bathroom and he didn’t give it a second thought until he heard the quiet ‘snick’ of the deadbolt on the door, locking it. He looked up, but before he could turn around a body slammed into him from behind as a hand slapped over his mouth. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, pinning him in place.

Anders looked in the mirror only to see nothing but his own wide-eyed reflection looking back. That drastically narrowed the list of who might have caught him in the bathroom. Sure enough, he felt a fang graze up the column of his throat, followed by a wet tongue.

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute before you have some other guy hanging all over you,” Mitchell growled in his ear before nipping at the lobe.

Anders tried to protest his innocence but it was garbled by the hand on his mouth. He frowned at his reflection as Mitchell mouthed at his ear. This was erotic, but weird as hell to be able to feel what Mitchell was doing yet see only himself. He tried to pull away but Mitchell’s grip tightened.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet,” Mitchell whispered as his hand slid down from Anders’ waist to palm him roughly through his pants. “Not by a long shot.”

Anders relaxed back against Mitchell’s chest, cock filling as Mitchell rubbed him through his clothes. He watched in the mirror and reached one hand behind him to pull Mitchell closer. Mitchell removed the hand from his mouth and wrapped that arm around Anders’ chest as he leaned down to nibble on Anders’ neck with human teeth.

“Do you like that? In the mirror?” Mitchell’s breath was cool on Anders’ damp skin.

“It’s odd,” Anders whispered his answer as he shivered. He started to close his eyes but Mitchell bit down, causing him to gasp and jump.

“Keep your eyes open,” Mitchell ordered. “Where are your keys?”

The question made Anders blink in confusion for a second before he replied, “Left pocket.”

Mitchell slid a hand into the pocket and pulled out the keys. He held them up with a victorious sound, and Anders grinned when he remembered why Mitchell wanted them. Where some people had a canister of pepper spray or even a tiny bottle of sriracha hot sauce, Anders had a small bottle of silicone lube.

The hand and lube vanished behind him and Mitchell murmured, “Take down your pants.”

Anders obeyed, unfastening his belt and slacks before pushing them down. He only got them down to mid-thigh before Mitchell was pressing a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Hands on the sink,” Mitchell ordered.

Anders leaned forward and braced his hands on the sink. There was the quiet click of the lube popping open and the sound of the bottle being squeezed. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward when two lubed fingers slid unerringly into him.

“Nuh-uh. Open your eyes, Anders. I want you to see what I see when I fuck you. I want you to know how beautiful you are.”

Lifting his head, Anders shot a frown at Mitchell through the mirror, or at least where he thought Mitchell was. A chuckle and a twist of the fingers inside him were the only reply. The fingers ghosted over his prostate before pushing down harder to get a quiet moan from Anders. The fingers withdrew and there was a nudge of blunt heat. Mitchell stopped there, not entering Anders, and a slick hand wrapped around Anders’ cock.

“Who’s your new friend?” Mitchell asked, giving a leisurely stroke.

“You really want to discuss that now, Mitch?”

Mitchell pressed his thumb against the slit, making Anders whine. “No time like the present.”

“Bastard,” Anders whispered.

“I heard that.” Mitchell chuckled and pressed harder.

“Bret. His name is Bret.”

The thumb relented. A hand on Anders’ hip held him steady as Mitchell pushed forward and entered Anders in a smooth glide.

“He’s a handsome boy.” Mitchell sounded like he was standing around the water cooler discussing the weather.

“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” Anders tried to match the careless tone, but couldn’t keep the note of strain out of his voice.

“Liar.” Mitchell thrust forward, forcing a little grunt from Anders. “You know he’s good looking.” He started moving, a slow rolling motion that had Anders eyes fluttering closed again. “Open your eyes, darling.”

Instinct had Anders try to look at Mitchell in the mirror again. Of course there was nothing there but his own flushed reflection. The discrepancy between what he was feeling and what he was seeing was starting to become disconcerting. Still trying to keep his voice casual, he said, “Maybe I wouldn’t be picking up stray men if you didn’t leave me alone in bars for so long. I have to keep myself entertained somehow.”

Mitchell kept rocking as he said, “Would you fuck him? Your new friend Bret? If it wasn’t for me, if we weren’t together, would you take him home?” When Anders hesitated, he gave a sharp thrust. “Would you?”

“Yes,” Anders gasped. There was no denying the breathlessness in his voice now. “Harder, John.”

Ignoring the request, Mitchell kept to the same leisurely pace. “Or would you even bother to take him home? Maybe it would be him here, instead of me, fucking you in the bathroom like some cheap whore.”

“John, please,” Anders whispered. He let go of the sink with one hand so he could start stroking his cock.

Mitchell reached around, catching both of Anders’ wrists in one big hand. He pulled Anders upright, flush against his chest and still holding Anders hands as he murmured into Anders’ ear, “No, love, just watch. I don’t want you finishing yet.”

Anders let his head fall back against Mitchell’s shoulder, eyes half open and watching in the mirror. He pointed out breathlessly, “You know someone is going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later.”

Speeding up his rocking, Mitchell asked, “Do you think Bret will come and check on you? Would you like to invite him in here to watch us?”

Anders always had a small streak of exhibitionism, and couldn’t suppress his moan at the idea.

“Oh, you like that thought, do you?” Mitchell gave another hard thrust, earning a gasp, and said, “Maybe I should invite him in here to join us.”

The change in angle wasn’t giving Anders what he wanted. It still felt good, but it wasn’t what he needed to be able to come. He squirmed, trying to shift it to the angle he needed, but Mitchell held him in place. He murmured, “Please, John?”

Another hard thrust before Mitchell said, “I suppose you’re right. Someone’s going to need the bathroom sooner or later. Maybe I could bend you over the pool table instead. That way everyone could watch, not just your friend Bret.”

“Mitch!” Anders struggled, not to get away, but just to find a way to make Mitchell hit his sweet spot, or get him to jack him off, touch him, something besides this smooth glide that was nice, but wasn’t quite doing it for him. This was a form of torture.

Mitchell still held him in place, though, not letting Anders find any satisfaction. His voice was growing strained as he said, “No, not the pool table. We wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we? I could take you into the alley. Have you on your knees like a whore. I could fuck you while you sucked him off.”

Anders whined when Mitchell picked up his pace, rocking faster, thrusting rougher. He squeezed his eyes closed and leaned forward, letting Mitchell’s arm on his chest support his weight. It still wasn’t hitting where he needed it, and he knew Mitchell was doing that on purpose.

“No,” Mitchell growled. He held both of Anders’ wrists in one hand and used his free hand to grab Anders’ chin and force him to look at the mirror again. Anders could tell Mitchell had vamped out by the slight lisp to his words as he said, “Watch yourself. Keep watching.”

When Anders nodded, the hand quit squeezing his chin and slid down his throat, fingers resting on pulse points.

“I keep saying like a whore, but that’s wrong, isn’t it? Whores charge money. You’d do it for free, wouldn’t you?” Mitchell’s voice was getting breathy, and his thrusts were becoming erratic. He drug a fang up Anders’ throat and around the shell of his hear before murmuring, “Just because I asked. Wouldn’t you? If I told you to drop to your knees and suck Bret’s dick while I watched, would you do it?”

Anders watched his reflection. His eyes were blown almost black, he was flushed with hectic red spots on each cheek. His hair was mussed, there was a scratch welling blood on his neck, and it vanished when he felt a wet tongue trail across the tiny wound. His mouth was open and he was gasping for air. Mitchell did a roll of his hips that did nothing but tease Anders more.

Anders decided he could play at that teasing game too. He nodded. He allowed his voice to hold all the lust he was feeling as he said, “If you told me, I’d do it. If you wanted me to drop to my knees in the alley and suck Bret off so you could watch, I’d do it. I’d let you fuck me while I did it. You could hold me still so you could watch while he came all over my face. The only thing I wouldn’t let him do is make me come. I want to come for you, no one else.”

Mitchell let go of his hands to grab his hips in a bruising grip. With three sharp thrusts and a growl, he came.

Anders felt the pulsing warmth deep inside, and rolled his hips back and clenched. Mitchell growled and pushed forward again. Anders reached down to finish himself off.

Mitchell caught his hand and stopped him.

“Uh, some of us aren’t done, you know,” Anders pointed out.

“Oh, I know. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to pull your pants back up, and you’re going to go finish your drink. Play another game if you want. After that, you’ll tell your friend Bret goodbye and thank him for a lovely evening. Then you’ll go home, and if you’ve done what I asked, I’ll see about doing something about this.” Mitchell ghosted a fingertip over the head of Anders’ cock.

“Asshole.” Anders ignored Mitchell’s chuckle and reached for a paper towel.

Mitchell caught Anders in a hug, pulling him back against his chest. He flicked the edge of Anders’ ear with his tongue before murmuring, “No. I want you to go back out there with your dick hard and my come leaking out of your slutty little hole. I want you to feel me with every step you take. I want him to be able to smell me on you.”

With a frown, Anders said, “Or you could always just piss on me to mark your territory.”

Mitchell laughed, and Anders could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “Ooh, I didn’t realize you were into such filthy things, Mr. Johnson. That’s a negotiation for another day, though. Right now I’m happy with my spunk running down the inside of your leg.”

Mitchell rolled his hips to let his softening dick pull out of Anders. Sure enough, it was followed by a trickle of Mitchel’s seed.

“Jerk,” Anders muttered, shooting another glare to where Mitchell should be standing in the mirror.

“But you love me.” Mitchell reached down and helped Anders pull his pants back up. “Like I said, I’ll take care of this for you when you get home. I’ll even be generous and clean up the mess I left behind. Don’t take too long, though. I’d hate to fall asleep while I was waiting on you.”

Anders started tucking his shirt in and trying to adjust his extremely hard cock so it wasn’t quite so obvious in his slacks. Mitchell dropped a kiss on the pulse point on the side of his neck and stepped back. The deadbolt clicked, the door opened and closed, and then he was alone again.

Once he got his clothes presentable, he ran the cold water and splashed his face. After blotting off with a paper towel, he was inspecting his reflection when he started laughing. He had just been bent over the sink and fucked by his boyfriend without once kissing him or seeing his face. It was weird, but it was also one hell of a turn on. As he finished drying his hands, the possibilities that could be explored in front of the full length mirror he had at home ran through his mind. Or better yet, he had a camera and a tripod. Maybe Mitchell would be open to the idea of experimenting.

That line of thought did nothing to help his raging erection, though, so he tried to put it out of his mind for now. At least long enough to enable him to walk out of here without sporting an obvious boner.

After another quick adjustment, he felt ready to face the public. He left the bathroom and went back to where his suit coat was waiting. Unfortunately, so was Bret.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost,” Bret told him with a smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m starting to get tired, though. I think I’ll head home.” As he was talking, he felt a warm trickle down the inside of his thigh. He needed out of here before it started to show through his trousers.

Bret looked disappointed, but gave him a smile anyway. “Maybe I’ll see you around again.”

That flash of guilt reared its ugly head again. He didn’t want to hurt Bret’s feelings. Anders leaned closer and allowed Bragi to lace his words. “I think you’re a really nice guy, Bret. But after we talked for a while, you decided I was too cocky for your tastes.”

Bret frowned. “I don’t like cocky men.”

“See? We would never have worked out in the long run. You deserve someone better than me.” Anders nodded.

Bret copied the gesture. “You’re right. I deserve better. It was fun, but I’ll be leaving now. I’m sorry if you thought I was leading you on.”

“I’ll get over it.” Before Bret turned away, Anders grabbed his arm and added, “You’re tired of this bar, too. You should go somewhere else in a different neighborhood for at least a couple of months. Maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

“Good idea.” Without another word, Bret turned away and walked out of the bar.

Anders didn’t think Mitchell was actually jealous, but better safe than sorry. If he was jealous, there was no sense in throwing Bret into his face if they decided to come back to this bar. This way everyone wins and they could avoid what had the potential to turn into a messy confrontation.

He gulped down the remaining few swallows of his martini and grimaced at the warm alcohol. Well, no worries. He had a bottle of cold vodka waiting in the freezer at home, and a hot vampire waiting in his bed. He shrugged back into his jacket and started patting his pockets, looking for the keys.

With a frown, he remembered that Mitchell still had them. He thought about calling Mitchell for a ride, but it was only a few blocks away. It was going to be an uncomfortable walk, since he had Mitchell’s jizz running down his leg now, but he’d manage it. Mitchell was most definitely going to make it up to him before the night was over. He’d make sure of it.

He kept his head up and a cocky grin on his face. Walk of shame? For Anders Johnson? Perish the thought. It was the stride of pride all the way home.

 


End file.
